by Lindsey Hart
“Great. That probably means the rest of us will have to bunk in together.”
“You’re such a pooper. I’m excited. This is exciting. Not only do we get to go, all expenses paid, but we are also getting our regular salary paid as well. I know we weren’t excited for this to happen, and people wanted to bail because they thought they’d get fired anyway, but it’s the exact opposite. I don’t know why people call the guy ruthless. He’s clearly awesome. He put this all together.”
“No, his HR department probably did. He’s too rich. He doesn’t spend his free time planning corporate retreats. It probably wasn’t even his idea. He probably moaned and groaned about having to foot the bill for it until someone pointed out it’s a tax write off anyway.”
Bonnie rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head. I purposely keep a neutral face because I can’t very well tell her that I know what Raiden does in his free time. That would mean I would then have to elaborate about drinking a few drinks and getting buzzed and having strange, wild desires I obviously couldn’t control and literally leaping into the guy’s lap. We might have had all our clothes on, but I know what his cock feels like. I also can’t erase the sensations that are now branded into my skin, of Raiden’s fingers brushing along my soaking wet panties. Of the pad of his thumb hitting my clit.
Actually, it never happened. That’s what I’ve decided. I’ve washed the whole incident from my mind. Blocked and locked away, erased completely. I never went to Raiden’s house, I never let my guard down, and I never let him under my skin. I most certainly never did anything after that.
It’s better to pretend it never happened because I still can’t figure out why it happened. Sure, the guy is attractive. I’ll admit it because it’s a fact, and facts should just be put out there, but I’ve noticed that a lot of people are good looking before, and I’ve never been tempted to jump them. I’ve never felt anything half as close to what I felt when I was sitting next to Raiden.
I can’t blame it on the whisky because I wasn’t technically that buzzed. If I believed in the supernatural, I’d say something possessed my body for a brief time and made me get kinky with my ex-stepbrother. Good. Freaking. Potatoes. Maybe it was a crazy surge of hormones. Pheromones. A crazy push from my biological clock or my female plumbing taking over my brain and shorting out all the important parts. Whatever it was, it was like a blackout. Thank goodness Raiden brought me to my senses with the incident. The incident I will never think or speak about. Because it definitely did not happen.
I was so shocked by the thing that did not happen that I wasn’t even able to tell him off properly.
What. A. Freaking. Mess. My. Life. Has. Turned. Into.
And it’s all Rancid Rotten Ruthless Raiden’s fault.
“Hello? Anyone home? Any more protests about going to a wonderful, amazing resort and doing some fishing and probably all sorts of exciting wilderness activities, all for free?”
“I’ll have to find someone to feed my cats while I’m gone,” I mutter. “Wonder if they’ll pay for that too.”
“Drop them off at your dad’s. He’d probably be happy to take them.”
“Not likely. My dad hates my cats. Pudding goes nuts when she has to go into a carrier, and she won’t forgive me for weeks after. She’d probably pee on everything he owns.”
“Great. Nothing like the fresh smell of cat piss in the morning to get you up and going.”
“Gross.” Despite myself, a small smile crawls over my lips.
“There it is,” Bonnie grins. Then, because she’s Bonnie, and she’s not like anyone else I know, which is why I like her a lot, she fist-pumps the air and lets out a whoop of excitement. “Colorado, bitches! Bring it on!”
I can’t say I’m as excited as she is. Honestly, I can say I’m downright dreading this. I know this was all Raiden’s doing, and I know it’s his way to get to me. I’d say to get back at me, but I’m not sure what he’d be getting back at me for. I haven’t technically given my notice, so I haven’t broken my word. I can’t even remember what the deal was when we played our rock, paper, scissors game.
Raiden said he wouldn’t blackmail me, but he probably spent all weekend organizing this—or paying someone else to put it all together—just to prove to me that he can. He’s flexing his muscles—his impressive, manly, tanned, striated, and veiny muscles interlaced with the dark tattoo designs. Yes, I noticed. He was wearing a t-shirt. The damn things were practically in my face.
Whatever. I still know all about the incident that never happened and shall never be spoken of again. I still have that on him even though bringing it up again would nearly kill me. I might die of embarrassment, and it would mean I’d have to admit to getting frisky with him.
Frisky with my ex-stepbrother who is now my boss. Great.
So, I will never admit it because it’s unadmittable. It’s wrong. Gross. Bad. Just…just…seriously effed up.
Colorado can’t be a good thing.
Because I know, without a doubt, Raiden will be there.
CHAPTER 9
Raiden
When I slide into the first-class seat right beside Zoe, she bites down hard on her rosy, full bottom lip, lets out an annoyed groan, and rolls her eyes heavenward.
“Just when I thought this couldn’t possibly get any better,” she snaps. “I should have known.” She gives me the cold shoulder, literally, as she turns to stare out the window, even though she has her little shutter thing closed. Apparently, it beats looking at me.
As she probably guessed, I made sure to book Zoe’s and my seat together in a private little corner of the plane. The seats are huge since it’s first-class, with lots of legroom. I booked as much of the company into first-class as I could, and then for those I couldn’t, I placed them in first-class on the flight back. I didn’t want it to appear like I was playing favorites.
I made sure it was stressed that this is a wilderness trip, so no one had to be in suits and dresses. As a result, Zoe is dressed in a pair of skinny jeans and a lightweight sweater that hangs off one shoulder, exposing her creamy, flawless skin, which made my dick harder than a tree trunk the second I saw her. Her hair is pulled back into a messy bun, and she has just a touch of mascara and a bit of pink lip gloss on. Or maybe it’s tinted lip balm. I’m not sure, but I like it because it makes her already pink lips even rosier.
I went for jeans too. And no, not faded ones. It’s dark wash jeans this time. Had to play it safe. I couldn’t bring myself to dress too casually, so I went with a black dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves. I’ve been complimented on how muscly my forearms are before, and it obviously went straight to my head—not that head. I meant the head that makes all the decisions—the one on top of my shoulders.
I might have treated myself to a haircut and a shave at my favorite barbershop yesterday, and this morning, I might have dabbed on just one tiny dab of my most expensive cologne. I can barely smell it because it was indeed expensive, and that kind of stuff is made right. It doesn’t stink up an area as it’s subtle. Barely there, but when it’s noticed, it’s really noticed.
After wracking my brain the night Zoe left, I decided on two things.
One, I didn’t ask for Zoe to enter my life like this. Two, I’m not going to be able to get her out of my head—yes, still the one on my shoulders.
Once I admitted those two basic, inescapable facts to myself, I had to settle on a plan of action. It’s just how I’m made up. I can’t let anxiety or uncertainty rule my life. I’ve always been one of those people who had to make my own way, find my own solutions, and create my own destiny.
So, I decided that since I wouldn’t be able to purge Zoe out of my head anytime soon, even if I haven’t been able to explain to myself why exactly that is, or pick apart straight down to the tiny, little, gritty parts and pieces, I decided there was only one thing to do.
Make a plan.
I’m officially here on said plan. The name of that plan? Operation Ex-Stepsister Seduc
tion.
Basically, I decided I couldn’t let Zoe get away until I’ve figured out what it is about her that’s so unique, so different, and so…so…so undefinable. Why I just know, I can’t exactly say. It’s just something I know is true with every fiber of my being.
Maybe I’m dramatic, but it doesn’t make it any less true.
So, I’m here. And clearly, Zoe is pissed.
As soon as we’re in the sky, she turns to me. “Why don’t you move to California or something? All the good tech stuff is there. It seems like the perfect place for you.”
“I’ve thought about it, but I like Miami. It’s home.”
“You’re so far from home that you might as well be in a different city.”
I shrug just to piss her off, and it works. A slow red flush creeps up the beautiful column of her neck.
“Great.” Zoe goes back to staring out the window. At least she’s opened the shutter now.
“My mom lives in Colorado. When I told her all about running into you again, she was so excited to meet you. I arranged for us to have lunch with her on Thursday.”
“What?” Zoe whips around. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“No. I didn’t think you’d have any objections. I thought you and my mom always got along well. She always did like you, and she missed you after. She just didn’t think it was appropriate to contact you, given you were still a minor, and she and your dad ended things on a pretty low, vicious note. And then too much time went on. She was embarrassed about it when I told her, but she was also very excited. You wouldn’t break her heart and deny her lunch now, would you?”
“You’re such a dingle dangle,” Zoe grinds out under her breath. She stares straight ahead at the seat in front of her. She’s embarrassed, but she’s trying to pretend she’s not. It’s not working out any better than pretending I don’t exist.
“One day,” I say before leaning obnoxiously close to her ear to whisper, “You’re going to have to grow some lady balls and learn to swear whenever you want.”
“No thanks.”
“My mom actually suggested this resort. I mentioned I was looking for a place, and she knew of this great outfitter who had a bunch of cabins and whatnot for rent. She has quite a few friends in Colorado now, and someone knew someone who knew someone who said this is their slow month, and while they have a few other guests, it didn’t take much convincing for them to open up the rest of the cabins they don’t usually use and rearrange a few other reservations.”
“By convincing, you mean with crazy amounts of money.”
“Something like that.”
“But it’s all a tax write off anyway,” Zoe bites out sarcastically. She might not be looking at me, but at least she’s talking to me.
I wait a few minutes before I ask my next question. I make sure every single word is as loaded as I know the statement will be coming out of my mouth. “Would you like a whisky?”
“No!” Zoe tucks her hands between her knees. “No,” she hisses again, a little more quietly this time. The flush is now spreading from her neck up to her cheeks.
“I’m sorry for…”
Fast as lighting, Zoe’s hand shoots out and covers my mouth. “Oh, no,” she breathes into my ear in the most menacing tone I’ve heard from anyone in a good long while. “No way. You do not get to talk about that. Not here. Not ever.”
I nod my understanding, and as soon as she takes her hand away, I give her a shit-eating grin that probably deserves a good smack. My mom’s given me a few for that exact expression over the years. I used to grin the same grin at her when she was trying to punish me, and it used to drive her nuts. I wish she would have known I wasn’t trying to defy her. I just found her reactions hilarious, and trying hard not to smile generally seems to produce the exact opposite reaction.
“I was going to say I’m sorry for not trying to contact you before this. I did think that, well, maybe I thought the way my mom did. That since you were younger and still lived with your dad, you wouldn’t want to hear from us. Or rather, he wouldn’t, so he wouldn’t want you to either. I didn’t want to cause trouble or be a reminder of how shit went down between our parents, and then years passed, and it just felt strange and awkward. I guess I talked myself into thinking you didn’t want to hear from me then, so I never looked you up.”
“Didn’t you wonder about me?” Zoe looks like she wishes she could take it back the moment she says it. “No. Never mind. Don’t answer that. I guess we both did, and we did nothing about it. We’ll leave it at that since we can’t do anything about it, and we’re here now.”
“So, you’ll agree not to hate me?”
There’s a glint of surprised amusement in Zoe’s eyes before she rips her gaze away. “No. I won’t agree to that.”
“You didn’t give your notice.”
“I’m planning on milking a free trip first. I’ll have it on Kim’s desk as soon as I get back.”
I’m not able to tell if she’s being facetious or not, so I let it go. “Are you sure you don’t want a whisky?”
“No!” Zoe snaps. She whips back around. “What is wrong with you?” Air hisses out between her tightly ground teeth, and her eyes narrow. “I mean, other than the obvious.”
I glance around, but a quick check tells me that everyone else is engrossed in their conversations, movies, music, and whatever else they might be doing at the moment. They’re not paying any attention to us.
“Speaking of, since you refuse to let it drop, have you booked a doctor appointment for that yet?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Zoe’s eyes flick toward my crotch, and when she catches herself and looks back up at me like she didn’t just get caught doing what she was just doing, her face is scarlet.
I smirk. “Anyway, am I going to have to call my mom and cancel lunch? I have to say, if you decide against it, she’ll be so disappointed.”
Zoe juts her chin out, as stubborn as she ever was. “No. Don’t cancel. Why would you cancel? I might as well milk a free lunch out of you, as well as the free vacation. Your money might as well make one of us happy.”
“We’ll see if you give your notice.”
“We’ll see how you like roughing it.”
“Roughing it?”
“I can’t imagine you dealing with nature. Bugs. Outhouses. Tents.”
“This resort is a premium outfitter. They have log cabins with cable TV, high-speed internet, full bathrooms and kitchens in the cabins, running water, the whole deal. They also have a giant lodge where they feed everyone. I don’t even have to cook for myself. Hardly my version of roughing it.”
Zoe gives me one last fierce scowl before she turns and leans back in her seat. She closes her eyes, and it’s clear we’re at the end of the discussion.
Which is fine with me. I’m just as content to sit here and watch her while she pretends to be sleeping. I’m not weird and creepy at all.
I realize I might be losing it because this is the most at peace and content I’ve felt in a long time. If I’m losing it, at least I’m losing it to Zoe. She’s not a stranger. She’ll never be a stranger. She used to be my best friend, and there might have been a lot of years between then and now, but she’s always going to be special to me.
CHAPTER 10
Zoe
After flying on Monday and attending a full two days of seminars, I’m looking forward to the downtime we have on Wednesday afternoon. I can’t believe how fast whoever planned this got it all together. Even I have to admit the lodge is pretty incredible.
There is a shit pile of cabins, though I’m not sure how many because a lot of them are hidden throughout the woods. It’s all forested and rocky with a lot of lakefront access and a big log lodge to top it all off. It’s all seriously amazing. The skies also light up at night and in the morning. The air is fresh and slightly crisp, and there isn’t the crazy humidity we all just get used to in Miami.
The training, guest spe
akers, activities, and all are pretty amazing too. There are guest speakers, employees from other companies Raiden owns, specialists in the tech field, HR experts, blah, blah, blah. It’s actually really inspiring. I hate to admit, but it kind of makes me want to burn the letter I wrote, giving my notice. I’m somewhat excited about taking additional training and all the awesome things we could do as a company. I think that’s what this thing is geared to do. I can’t help that I’m falling under its spell.
I’ve successfully avoided Raiden since we got off the plane. I’ve caught glimpses of him here and there, but I’d be a liar if I said my heart didn’t do a double backflip and start racing like I’m the track and field star, not Raiden.
After lunch, I cut past the cabin I’m sharing with Bonnie and her daughter. She asked for us to be placed together, so I didn’t have to bunk in with a whole bunch of other people from work. I know everyone, but I’m quite shy, and sharing personal space with people I don’t hang out with outside of work and don’t even know more than as a passing acquaintance kind of freaks me out. Bonnie’s daughter, Jenna, is twelve. She’s really enjoying the kid’s camp so far, and she talks endlessly about it every single night.
I head straight for the trails leading into the woods behind the row of cabins. Everyone else seems to be hitting the lakefront and the boats, but I’d like some quiet time to think. Mostly, I just need to mentally prepare myself for lunch tomorrow with Raiden and his mom. I wish I could just get my body in agreement to dislike him as that would make everything much easier.
Of course, just as I get to the trailhead that leads into the woods, Raiden appears like a ghostly apparition that is, unfortunately, mostly flesh and far too handsome. I’ve never seen adult Raiden in khaki hued shorts before. He’s also rocking a tight white t-shirt with palm trees on it and a set of black slides. Who wears slides anyway?